英语词源字典 - 在线词源网站

aluminium [aluminium 词源字典]: aluminium: [19] Aluminium comes from a coinage by the English chemist Sir Humphry Davy, who discovered the metal. His first suggestion was alumium, which he put forward in Volume 98 of the Transactions of the Royal Society 1808: ‘Had I been so fortunate as … to have procured the metallic substances I was in search of, I should have proposed for them the names of silicium, alumium, zirconium, and glucium’.

He based it on Latin alūmen ‘alum’ (alum is a sulphate of aluminium, and the word alum, a 14th-century borrowing from French, derives ultimately from alūmen; alumina is an oxide of aluminium, and the word alumina is a modern Latin formation based on alūmen, which entered English at the end of the 18th century); and alūmen may be linked with Latin alūta ‘skins dried for making leather, using alum’.

Davy soon changed his mind, however, and in 1812 put forward the term aluminum – which remains the word used in American English to this day. British English, though, has preferred the form aluminium, which was mooted contemporaneously with aluminum on grounds of classical ‘correctness’: ‘Aluminium, for so we shall take the liberty of writing the word, in preference to aluminum, which has a less classical sound’, Quarterly Review 1812.
=> alum[aluminium etymology, aluminium origin, 英语词源]
bogey: bogey: [19] Bogey is one of a set of words relating to alarming or annoying manifestations of the supernatural (others are bogle, bug, bugbear, and possibly boggle and bugaboo) whose interconnections are difficult to sort out. A strand common to most of them is a northern origin, which has led some to suggest an ultimate source in Scandinavia – perhaps an ancestor of Norwegian dialect bugge ‘important man’ (which has also been linked with English big) might lie behind Middle English bugge, originally ‘scarecrow’ but later used for more spectral objects of terror.

Others, however, noting Welsh bwg, bwgan ‘ghost’, have gone with a Celtic origin. Of more recent uses of bogey, ‘policeman’ and ‘nasal mucus’ seem to have appeared between the two World Wars, while ‘golf score of one stroke over par’ is said to have originated at the Great Yarmouth Golf Club in the 1890s, when a certain Major Wellman exclaimed, during the course of a particularly trying round, that he must be playing against the ‘bogey-man’ (a figure in a popular song of the time). Bogie ‘undercarriage’ [19] is a different word (of if anything obscurer origin than bogey).
brew: brew: [OE] The ancestral meaning of brew has basically to do with ‘heat’. It comes from an Indo-European base *bhreu- or *bhru, which is also the source of Latin fervēre ‘boil’, from which we get fervent, ferment, and the second syllable of comfrey. Broth and possibly bread can be traced back to the same Indo-European base, and some etymologists have linked it with burn. To ‘brew’ was thus originally something like ‘make a drink by boiling’, ‘fermentation’ being a secondary but connected connotation.
=> broth, comfrey, ferment, fervent
bull: bull: There are three distinct words bull in English. The oldest is the animal name, which first appears in late Old English as bula. Related forms occur in other Germanic languages, including German bulle and Dutch bul. The diminutive bullock is also recorded in late Old English. The second bull is ‘edict’ [13], as in ‘papal bull’. This comes from medieval Latin bulla ‘sealed document’, a development of an earlier sense ‘seal’, which can be traced back to classical Latin bulla ‘bubble’ (source also of English bowl, as in the game of bowls; of boil ‘heat liquid’; of budge [16], via Old French bouger and Vulgar Latin *bullicāre ‘bubble up, boil’; and probably of bill ‘statement of charges’).

And finally there is ‘ludicrous or selfcontradictory statement’ [17], usually now in the phrase Irish bull, whose origins are mysterious; there may be a connection with the Middle English noun bul ‘falsehood’ and the 15th-to 17th-century verb bull ‘mock, cheat’, which has been linked with Old French boler or bouller ‘deceive’. The source of the modern colloquial senses ‘nonsense’ and ‘excessive discipline’ is not clear.

Both are early 20th-century, and closely associated with the synonymous and contemporary bullshit, suggesting a conscious link with bull the animal. In meaning, however, the first at least is closer to bull ‘ludicrous statement’. Bull’s-eye ‘centre of a target’ and ‘large sweet’ are both early 19th-century. Bulldoze is from 1870s America, and was apparently originally applied to the punishment of recalcitrant black slaves; it has been conjectured that the underlying connotation was of ‘giving someone a dose fit for a bull’.

The term bulldozer was applied to the vehicle in the 1930s.
=> phallic; bill, bowl, budge
burn: burn: [OE] English has two separate words burn. The commoner, relating to ‘fire’, is actually a conflation of two Old English verbs: birnan, which was intransitive, and bærnan, which was transitive. Both come ultimately from the Germanic base *bren-, *bran-, which also produced brand and possibly broil, and was the source of German brennen and Swedish brinna ‘burn’ (another variant of the base, *brun-, lies behind the brim- of brimstone).

It has been conjectured that Latin fervēre ‘boil’ (source of English fervent and ferment) may be connected. Burn ‘stream’ comes from Old English burn(e), burna, which was a descendant of a Germanic base *brun-, source also of German brunne ‘stream’. This too has been linked with Latin fervēre (from the notion of fast-running water ‘boiling’ over rocks).
=> brand, brimstone, broil, ferment, fervent
burst: burst: [OE] In Old English, burst meant simply ‘break suddenly and sharply’; the modern connotation of ‘breaking open owing to internal pressure’ developed in the 16th century. The word comes from a prehistoric West and North Germanic *brestan, which can be traced back to an Indo-European base *bhrest- (this has been linked with medieval Irish brosc ‘noise’).
car: car: [14] Car seems first to have been used as an independent term for a road vehicle powered by an internal-combustion engine in 1896, in the publication Farman’s Auto-Cars (the compounds autocar and motorcar are a year earlier). But the word is of course of far longer standing as a general term for a wheeled conveyance. It comes ultimately from an unrecorded Celtic *karros, via Latin carrus ‘two-wheeled wagon’, Vulgar Latin *carra, and Anglo-Norman carre or car; it is probably linked with current and course, giving an underlying meaning ‘move swiftly’.

English words derived at some point or other from the same source include career, carriage, carry, charge, and chariot.
=> career, caricature, carriage, carry, charge, chariot, course, current
carve: carve: [OE] Originally, carve meant simply ‘cut’. That sense died out in the 16th century, leaving the more specialized ‘cut or incise decoratively’ and later ‘cut up meat at table’. Related words in other Germanic languages, such as Dutch kerven, point to a prehistoric West Germanic *kerfan, which is probably ultimately linked to Greek gráphein ‘write’ (source of English graphic), whose original notion was ‘scratch or incise on a surface’.
=> graphic
child: child: [OE] For a word of so central importance, child is surprisingly isolated, having no known living relatives in other Germanic languages. Its prehistoric Germanic ancestor has been reconstructed as *kiltham, which some have linked with Gothic kilthei ‘womb’ and even with Sanskrit jathara ‘belly’. The plural children is not an original feature; it developed in the 12th century. In earliest Old English times the plural was unchanged, like sheep.
choice: choice: [13] Choice is a French formation, although like the verb with which it is linked, choose, its ancestry is Germanic. The source of the English word was Old French chois, a derivative of the verb choisir ‘choose’, which came ultimately from the same Germanic base, *kaus- or *keus-, as produced choose. English had its own native formation, Old English cyre ‘choice’, which died out in Middle English times; had it survived to the present day, it might have been something like kire.
=> choose
circus: circus: [16] Latin circus meant literally ‘ring, circle’, but it was applied metaphorically by the Romans to the circular arena in which performances and contests were held. That was the original signification of the word in English, applied in a strictly antiquarian sense to the ancient world, and it was not until the late 18th century that it began to be used for any circular arena and the entertainment staged therein.

The Latin word is related to, and may have come from, Greek kírkos; and it is also connected with Latin curvus, source of English curve. It has additionally been linked with Latin corōna ‘circlet’, from which English gets crown. And it is of course, via its accusative form circum, the starting point of a wide range of English words with the prefix circum-, from circumference to circumvent (in this category is circuit [14], which goes back to an original Latin compound verb circumīre, literally ‘go round’).
=> circle, circuit, circulate, crown, curve, search
congruent: congruent: [15] Etymologically, triangles that are congruent ‘come together’ or ‘agree’ – that is, are similar. The word comes from congruēns, the present participle of Latin congruere ‘come together, meet, agree’. This was a compound verb formed from the prefix com- ‘together’ and a verb, *gruere, not found elsewhere (some have linked it with Latin ruere ‘fall’ – ultimate source of English ruin – in which case congruere would have meant literally ‘fall together’, but others have seen a connection with Greek zakhrēēs ‘attacking violently’). Incongruous is a 17thcentury adoption from Latin incongruus.
cook: cook: [OE] The noun cook is a lot more ancient than the verb, which in English was a 14thcentury development from the noun. The noun itself was borrowed in Old English times from Vulgar Latin cōcus, a descendant of classical Latin coquus. This is of Indo-European origin, and has been linked with Greek péssein ‘cook, boil’. Also from Latin coquus English gets concoct and biscuit, but cookie [18], a borrowing from Dutch koekje, is, despite its similarity, related not to cook but to cake.
=> apricot, concoct, cuisine, culinary, kiln, kitchen, pepsin, precocious
cruel: cruel: [13] Aptly, cruelty and crudeness are closely linked etymologically. Cruel comes via Old French cruel from Latin crūdēlis, a relative of Latin crūdus (which actually meant ‘cruel’ as well as ‘raw’ and ‘bloody’). Both come ultimately from an Indo-European base which also produced English raw, Greek kréas ‘flesh’ (whence English creosote and pancreas), and Old Slavic kruvi ‘blood’. (Crude is a 14thcentury borrowing direct from Latin.)
=> creosote, crude, pancreas, raw
dapple: dapple: [14] Dapple is a puzzling word. It is presumably derived from or linked in some way to its contemporary dapple-grey (although this has never been proved), which has formal and semantic links with several colour terms in other Germanic languages (such as Old Norse apalgrár, German apfelgrau, and Dutch appelgrauw) that are surely too strong to be coincidental.

They all mean literally ‘applegrey’. Add to this such forms as French grispommelé, again literally ‘applegrey’, and Russian yablokakh ‘dappled’, a derivative of yábloko ‘apple’, and the inference becomes even more compelling – that dappled is related in some way as yet unexplained to apple. Many of the above terms were applied specifically to grey horses marked with round blotches, and so perhaps the word had its beginnings in a perceived resemblance in shape between such markings and apples.
dead: dead: [OE] Dead is part of a Germanic family of adjectives (including also German tot, Dutch dood, Swedish död, and Gothic dauths) which come from a prehistoric Germanic adjective *dauthaz. This in turn came from an earlier *dhautós, which was the past participle of the verb base that eventually produced English die (thus etymologically dead is in effect a precursor of died). The word’s ultimate source was Indo- European *dheu-, which some have linked with Greek thánatos ‘dead’.
=> die
die: die: English has two distinct words die. The noun, ‘cube marked with numbers’, is now more familiar in its plural form (see DICE). The verb, ‘stop living’ [12], was probably borrowed from Old Norse deyja ‘die’. This, like English dead and death, goes back ultimately to an Indo- European base *dheu-, which some have linked with Greek thánatos ‘dead’.

It may seem strange at first sight that English should have borrowed a verb for such a basic concept as ‘dying’ (although some have speculated that a native Old English verb *dīegan or *dēgan did exist), but in fact it is a not uncommon phenomenon for ‘die’ verbs to change their meaning euphemistically, and therefore to need replacing by new verbs. In the case of the Old English verbs for ‘die’, steorfan survives as starve and sweltan in its derivative swelter, while cwelan is represented by the related cwellan ‘kill’, which has come down to us as quell.
=> dead, death
dolphin: dolphin: [13] The ultimate source of dolphin is Greek delphís ‘dolphin’, which some have linked with Greek delphýs ‘womb’. From it was derived delphīnion, a name given to the plant larkspur on account of the dolphin-like shape of part of its flower, acquired by English via Latin as delphinium [17]. Latin took over Greek delphís as delphīnus, which passed into English along two channels.

The classical form was borrowed as delfyn or delphin, which did not survive the 17th century. But the Vulgar Latin form *dalphīnus progressed to Old French daulphin (ultimate source of English dauphin), which English acquired as dalphyn. Dolphin, first recorded in the 14th century, appears to be an English alteration of the form da(u)lphin.
=> dauphin, delphinium
drill: drill: English has no fewer than four separate words drill, all of them comparatively recent acquisitions. Drill ‘make a hole’ [16] was borrowed from Middle Dutch drillen, but beyond that is history is obscure. The word’s military application, to ‘repetitive training’, dates from earliest times, and also existed in the Dutch verb in the 16th century; it seems to have originated as a metaphorical extension of the notion of ‘turning round’ – that is, of troops marching around in circles. Drill ‘small furrow for sowing seeds’ [18] may come from the now obsolete noun drill ‘rivulet’, but the origins of this are purely conjectural: some have linked it with the obsolete verb drill ‘trickle’. Drill ‘strong fabric’ [18] gets its name from originally being woven from three threads.

An earlier form of the word was drilling, an adaptation of German drillich; this in turn was descended from Latin trilix, a compound formed from tri- ‘three’ and līcium ‘thread’ (trellis is a doublet, coming ultimately from the same Latin source). (Cloth woven from two threads, incidentally, is twill [14], or alternatively – from Greek dímitos – dimity [15].) Drill ‘African baboon’ [17] comes from a West African word.

It occurs also in the compound mondrill [18], the name of a related baboon, which appears to have been formed with English man.
=> trellis; mandrill
dry: dry: [OE] Dry comes ultimately from prehistoric Germanic *draugiz, a derivative of the base *draug-, *drūg-, which also produced English drought and drain. Its other Germanic relatives are Dutch droog and German trocken, and some have connected it with Old Norse drjūgr ‘lasting, strong’, Old Prussian drūktai ‘firmly’, and Lithuanian dialect drūktas ‘thick, strong’ – the theory being that strength and endurance are linked with ‘drying out’.
=> drain, drought
equerry: equerry: [16] Nowadays in Britain simply royal attendants, equerries’ long and traditional association with the royal stables has led to association of the word equerry with Latin equus ‘horse’, but in fact the two are quite unrelated. Equerry originally meant ‘stable’, and was borrowed from the obsolete French escuirie (now écurie). It is not clear where this came from: some etymologists have linked it with Old High German scūr ‘barn, shed’, while others have derived it from Old French escuier ‘groom’ (source of English esquire and squire), according to which view it would mean ‘place where a groom stayed or worked’. (Escuier itself came ultimately from Latin scūtārius ‘shieldbearer’.) Forms such as escurie remained current in English up until the 18th century, but already by the 17th century equus-influenced spellings had begun to appear.

The person in charge of such a stable was formerly termed in French escuier d’escuirie ‘squire of the stable’, and in English groom of the equerry, and there are records from quite early in the 16th century indicating that equerry was being used on its own as the term for such a groom.
=> esquire, squire
folk: folk: [OE] Folk comes from a prehistoric Germanic *folkam, which also produced German and Dutch volk and Swedish and Danish folk. It is not clear where this came from, although it has been linked with the Indo- European base *pel-, *plē- ‘fill’, which might also have produced Latin populus ‘people’. On the other hand Russian polk’, thought to have been borrowed from the Germanic form, means ‘division of an army’, and it is conceivable that this may preserve an earlier semantic stratum, represented also in Old Norse folk, which signified both ‘people’ and ‘army’.
gherkin: gherkin: [17] Etymologically, a gherkin may be a ‘little unripe one’. The word was borrowed from an assumed early Dutch *gurkkijn, a diminutive form of gurk, which probably came from Lithuanian agurkas. This in turn goes back via Polish ogurek to medieval Greek angoúrion, which has been linked with classical Greek ágouros ‘youth’.
hang: hang: [OE] Hang is a general Germanic verb, represented also in German and Dutch hangen and Swedish hānga. These point back to a prehistoric Germanic *khang-, which some have linked with the Latin verb cunctārī ‘deal’. Hanker [17] (which originally meant ‘loiter, hang about’) probably comes ultimately from the same source, as does hinge; but hangar ‘structure housing aircraft’ [19] does not – it goes back via French hangar to medieval Latin angarium ‘shed in which horses are shod’.
=> hanker, hinge
honey: honey: [OE] Our Indo-European ancestors were very fond of honey, and their word for it, based on *melit-, has come down to many modern European languages, such as French and Spanish miel, Italian miele, and Welsh mel (it also contributed to English mellifluous, mildew, and molasses). The Germanic languages, however, have not persisted with it.

Their words for ‘honey’ (which also include German honig, Dutch honing, Swedish honung, and Danish honning) come from a prehistoric West and North Germanic *khunagom or *khunanggom. This may originally have described the colour of honey; it has been linked with Greek knēkós ‘pale yellow’ and Sanskrit kāncana- ‘golden’.
horse: horse: [OE] The Germanic languages have gone their own way as far as the horse is concerned. The prehistoric Indo-European term for the animal was *ekwos, which produced Latin equus (source of English equestrian and equine), Greek híppos (whence English hippodrome and hippopotamus), Sanskrit açvás, and Old English eoh. Remarkably, though, this has virtually died out as the day-to-day word for ‘horse’ in the modern European branches of the Indo- European languages.

In the case of English, it has been replaced by a descendant of prehistoric Germanic *khorsam or *khorsaz: horse (German ross, now mainly a literary term equivalent to English steed, is related). Its source is not known, although some have linked it with Latin currere ‘run’.
intrepid: intrepid: [17] The -trepid of intrepid represents Latin trepidus ‘alarmed’ (source also of English trepidation [17]), which goes back to an Indo- European source in which the notion of ‘fear’ seems to be linked with or derived from that of ‘scurrying away’. Addition of the negative prefix in- produced intrepidus ‘undaunted’, which reached English partly via French intrépide.
=> trepidation
iron: iron: [OE] Iron is probably a Celtic contribution to English, but the borrowing took place in the prehistoric period, before the Germanic dialects separated, and so English shares the word with German (eisen), Dutch (ijzen), Swedish (järn), etc. The prehistoric Celtic form from which these all ultimately came was *īsarnon, which some have linked with Latin aes ‘bronze’ and Sanskrit isira- ‘strong’. The ancient Indo- European peoples had already split up into groups speaking mutually unintelligible tongues by the time iron came into general use, so there was never any common Indo-European term for it.
ivy: ivy: [OE] Ivy has been traced back to a prehistoric Germanic *ibakhs, which also lies behind modern German efeu and Dutch eilof. This has been linked by some etymologists with Latin ibex ‘mountain goat’ (itself acquired by English in the 17th century), the semantic connection being ‘climber’. The expression Ivy League, denoting the eight old-established and prestigious universities of the northeastern USA (Brown, Columbia, Cornell, Dartmouth, Harvard, Pennsylvania, Princeton, and Yale), was inspired by the idea of ancient ivy-covered walls. It dates from the 1930s.
labour: labour: [13] Labour comes via Old French labour from Latin labor. This has been linked with the verb labāre ‘slip’, and if the two were related it would mean that the underlying etymological meaning of labour was something like ‘stumble under a burden’. Most of the modern European descendants of Latin labor have progressed from the broad sense ‘work, exertion’ to more specialized meanings – French labourer denotes ‘plough’, for instance, and Spanish labrar ‘plough, carve, embroider’, etc. English has retained it as a formal alternative to work, although the additional obstetric sense developed in the 16th century.
lounge: lounge: [16] It is the verb lounge (originally ‘move indolently’) which came first; its application as a noun to a ‘room where one can sit and take one’s ease’ came later, in the 18th century. It is not at all clear where the word came from, but some have linked it with the long obsolete noun lungis, which denoted both a ‘gangling foolish fellow’ and ‘someone who is slow or dilatory at doing things’. This was borrowed in the 16th century from French longis, which was apparently a generic application of Longīnus, the name of the Roman centurion who pierced Christ’s side with a spear as he was hanging on the cross.
moose: moose: [17] The moose’s name is a native American word. It comes from Natick moos, which has been linked by some with Narragansett moosu ‘he strips’, an allusion to the moose’s habit of stripping the bark from trees.
opinion: opinion: [13] Opinion comes via Old French from Latin opīniō, a derivative of opīnārī ‘think’. It is not certain where this came from, although some have linked it with Latin optāre ‘choose’, source of English adopt [16], co-opt [17], opt [19], and option [17].
=> adopt, opt, option
pizza: pizza: [20] Italian pizza is quite a broad term, signifying ‘cake’, ‘tart’ or ‘pie’ and encompassing dishes as diverse as a closed fruit pie and a flat bread-dough base with a topping. It is the latter, of course, that brought the word into English. At first, both the word and the foodstuff were unfamiliar enough for the tautologous name ‘pizza pie’ to be deemed necessary, but the fast-food revolution from the 1960s onwards has thoroughly naturalized pizza (US fast-food outlets have their own abbreviation, za).

The origin of the Italian word is uncertain. It has been linked with Vulgar Latin *picea, a derivative of Latin pyx ‘pitch’ (in which case it would be paralleled by Welsh bara pyglyd, literally ‘pitchy bread’, possibly a reference to its colour, from which English gets pikelet [18], the name of a type of tea-cake), but it could also be related to modern Greek pitta (source of English pitta [20]), which may be a descendant of classical Greek peptos ‘cooked’.
popular: popular: [15] Popular is one of a range of English words that go back to Latin populus ‘people’. Besides people (which came via Old French) and popular itself, these include populace [16], population [16], and public. It is not clear where populus itself came from, although some have linked it with the Indo- European base *plē- ‘fill’, source of English full and Greek pléthos ‘multitude, common people’ (a relative of English plethora).
=> people, population, public
posh: posh: [20] Although it only appeared as recently as the early 20th century, posh is one of the oldest chestnuts of English etymology. The story got around that it was an acronym for port out, starboard home, an allusion to the fact that wealthy passengers could afford the more expensive cabins on the port side of the ships going out to India, and on the starboard side returning to Britain, which kept them out of the heat of the sun.

Pleasant as this story is, though, it has never been substantiated. Another possibility is that posh may be the same word as the now obsolete posh ‘dandy, swell’, a slang term current around the end of the 19th century. This too is of unknown origin, but it has been tentatively linked with the still earlier 19thcentury slang term posh ‘halfpenny’, hence broadly ‘money’, which may have come ultimately from Romany posh ‘half’.
quail: quail: Quail the bird [14] and quail ‘cower’ [15] are not related. The former comes via Old French quaille from medieval Latin coacula, which probably originated in imitation of the bird’s grating cry. It is not known for certain where the verb (which originally meant ‘decline, wither, give way’) came from, although some have linked it with another verb quail, now obsolete, which meant ‘curdle’. This came via Old French quailler from Latin coāgulāre, source of English coagulate.
=> coagulate
recap: recap: [20] The -cap of recap has of course no immediate connection with cap. The word is short for recapitulate [16], which etymologically denotes ‘repeat the headings’. It comes from late Latin recapitulāre, a compound verb formed from the prefix re- ‘again’ and capitulum ‘section of text, heading’ (source of English chapter). Capitulum was a diminutive form of Latin caput ‘head’, which may ultimately underlie English cap – so the two words could after all be linked.
=> capitulate, chapter
recent: recent: [16] English acquired recent from Latin recēns ‘new, fresh’, possibly via French récent. It is not clear where the Latin word came from, although some have linked it with Greek kainós ‘new’ (source of the English geological term cainozoic [19]) and Sanskrit kanīna- ‘young’.
regard: regard: [14] The notions of ‘looking at something, keeping it in sight’ and ‘guarding it’ are closely linked, and often coexist in single words. Watch is an example, and so was Old French garder, ancestor of English guard. Addition of the prefix re- ‘back’ produced regarder ‘look back at, keep one’s eyes on’, hence simply ‘look at’. The Anglo-Norman version of the word gave English reward.
=> guard, reward, ward
ripe: ripe: [OE] Ripe is restricted to the West Germanic languages – it has relatives in German reif and Dutch rijp. Its antecedents are uncertain, but some have linked it with reap [OE], as if its underlying meaning is ‘ready for harvesting’. And reap itself may go back to an Indo- European base *rei- ‘tear, scratch’, and hence denote etymologically ‘strip’ the fruits, seeds, etc from plants.
rise: rise: [OE] Not surprisingly, rise and raise are closely related. Both go back to a common prehistoric Germanic ancestor meaning ‘go up’. This reached English directly as rise, while its causative derivative, meaning ‘cause to go up’, has given English raise, and also rear. The derived arise is of long standing. It is not clear what the word’s ultimate ancestry may be; some have linked it with Latin rīvus ‘stream’ (source of English rivulet), from the notion of a stream ‘rising’ in a particular place.
=> raise, rear
sake: sake: English has two nouns sake. The older, now used only in the expression for the sake of, was originally an independent fully-fledged noun, with a range of meanings including ‘strife’, ‘guilt’, and ‘lawsuit’ [OE]. Its use in for the sake of, which emerged in the 13th century, probably arose out of its legal usage, and thus denoted originally ‘on behalf of a litigant’s case in a lawsuit’.

The word itself came from a prehistoric Germanic *sakō ‘affair, thing, charge, accusation’, which also produced German sache ‘affair, subject, lawsuit’. It is also represented in English forsake [OE], which etymologically means ‘accuse, quarrel with’, hence ‘decline’, and finally ‘give up’; keepsake [18], etymologically something that is kept for the ‘sake’ of the giver; and namesake [17], which probably arose from the notion of two people being linked or associated for the ‘sake’ of their names. Seek is a distant relation. Sake, or saki, ‘rice wine’ [17] was borrowed from Japanese, where it literally means ‘alcohol’.
=> forsake, keepsake, namesake, seek, seize
salmon: salmon: [13] The ancestral Indo-European word for ‘salmon’ is lax. It survives in numerous modern European languages, including German lachs, Swedish lax (whence English gravlax), Yiddish laks (source of English lox ‘smoked salmon’), and Russian losos’. The Old English member of the family was læx, but in the 13th century this was replaced by salmon, a borrowing from Anglo-Norman saumoun. This in turn went back to Latin salmō, which some have linked with salīre ‘jump’ (source of English assail, insult, salient, etc) – hence the ‘leaping’ fish.
scapegoat: scapegoat: [16] In biblical times the ritual of Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement, included a ceremony involving two goats: one was sacrificed to God, and the other was sent off into the wilderness as the symbolic bearer of the people’s sins. This second goat was termed ‘azāzēl. That appears to have been a proper name, said in Jewish tradition to be that of a demon to whom the goat was sent, and may be linked with Aziz, the name of a Canaanite god.

Later commentators, however, interpreted it as equivalent to Hebrew ‘ēz ōzēl, which means ‘goat that departs’. In the Latin of the Vulgate, that was rendered as caper emissarius (whence the French expression bouc émissaire, literally ‘goat sent forth’), and William Tindale, in his 1530 translation of the Bible, expressed it as scapegoat (the first part, scape, is a shortened form of escape).

The modern metaphorical application to someone who takes the blame for others’ faults dates from the early 19th century.
serious: serious: [15] Serious comes ultimately from Latin sērius ‘serious, grave’. From this was derived late Latin sēriōsus, which passed into English via Old French serieux. It is not clear where sērius came from, although some have linked it with German schwer ‘heavy’ (‘seriousness’ and ‘weightiness’ being semantically close).
shock: shock: English has two words shock in current general usage. Shock ‘heavy blow, unpleasant surprise’ [16] was borrowed from French choc, a derivative of the verb choquer ‘strike’, whose origins are unknown. Shock ‘thick shaggy mass of hair’ [19] is a nominalization of an earlier adjective shock ‘thick and shaggy’ [17], but it is not clear where this came from. It has been linked with the obsolete shough, which referred to a sort of dog, and another possibility is that it is connected with the now little used shock ‘stack of sheaves of corn’ [14]. This was probably borrowed from Middle Dutch or Middle Low German schok.
sin: sin: [OE] Sin comes from a prehistoric Germanic *sunjō, a close relative of which produced German sünde, Dutch zonde, and Swedish and Danish synd ‘sin’. It is not altogether clear what its ultimate origins were, but it has been linked with Latin sōns ‘guilty’, and also with English sooth ‘truth’ and Sanskrit satya- ‘real, true’, as if its ancestral meaning were ‘(truly) guilty’.
sloe: sloe: [OE] Etymologically, the sloe is probably the ‘blue-black’ fruit. The word comes, along with its relatives German schlehe, Dutch slee, Swedish slå, and Danish slaa, from a prehistoric Germanic *slaikhwōn, which has been linked with Latin līvēre ‘be blue-black’ (source of English livid [17]). Another close relative is Serbo-Croat shljiva ‘plum’, whose derivative shljivovica ‘plum brandy’ has given English slivovitz [19].
=> livid, slivovitz
smack: smack: English has four separate words smack. The oldest, ‘taste’ [OE], is now mainly used metaphorically (as in smack of ‘suggest’). It has relatives in German geschmack, Dutch smaak, Swedish smak, and Danish smag ‘taste’, and may be distantly linked to Lithuanian smagus ‘pleasing’. Smack ‘hit’ [16] at first meant ‘open the lips noisily’, and was borrowed from Middle Low German or Middle Dutch smacken, which no doubt originated in imitation of the noise made.

It was not used for ‘hit with the palm of the hand’ until the mid 19th century. The slang use of the derivative smacker for ‘money’ originated in the USA around the end of World War I. Smack ‘small sailing boat’ [17] was borrowed from Dutch smak, a word of unknown origin. And smack ‘heroin’ [20] is probably an alteration of schmeck ‘heroin or other drug’ [20], which in turn comes from Yiddish schmeck ‘sniff’.